


Through the long night we dream

by paintbug



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Spoilers for 1917, Tom Blake Lives, after the war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:08:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22928467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintbug/pseuds/paintbug
Summary: Just like every time before.Tom would always be there for Will when he woke.And Will always returned the favour.
Relationships: Tom Blake/William Schofield
Comments: 3
Kudos: 66





	Through the long night we dream

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic for 1917 but the idea came to me and I just went with it

Pressure. 

Apply pressure to the wound. It was one of the few things they’d been told before joining the fight. Gunshots, cuts, stab wounds. 

Stab wounds.

Blake had been stabbed. His Tom. Stabbed. The blood was seeping out through his fingers and it seemed that the more pressure he applied the more appeared. He couldn’t stop it. Why couldn’t he stop it?!

He could taste the metallic substance as it ran down his wrist, mingling with the dirt and bandages that where wrapped tightly around his palm. Maybe that’s what they needed? More Bandages. 

‘talk to me. Tell me you know the way’ 

He knew the answer, he knew what he had to do. However, this time he couldn’t say anything. His mouth wouldn’t comply. The words sat heavy on his tongue, weighing his whole head down upon his shoulders.

No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t make a sound.

His fingers were growing numb now, fuzzy almost. He could feel the crackles as they sparked down into his arm. His head reciprocated the fuzz, buzzing angrily in his ears and drowning out even his heartbeat.

‘Tell me you know the way’

He wanted to scream. To reassure Tom. He knew! He knew the way!

He felt his jaw grow slack, mouth falling open as he a shout finally tore through his throat. 

Darkness.

Tom was gone, though the buzzing in his hand remained. 

The metallic stench of blood had been replaced by the salt of sweat. 

Will sat, panting as he took in the shadows about him. He registered the cushion of a mattress beneath him, the sheets bunching up in his fist. 

“Hey.”

The familiar voice drifted towards him, the tone gentle and full of sleep. The same voice from Will’s dream. 

Tom.

Slowly turning his head, Will turned to squint through the darkness at the figure lying beside him. 

As though a string had been cut, Will felt himself relax. Tom was safe. It had just been a dream. No matter how real they felt, it was over. A tired huff escaped Will’s mouth as he crumpled back into the pillow,  
gravitating towards the other man. He needed to touch him, to know he was real. The dream had been so realistic, Will could still feel the redness staining his hands, burning through his skin. 

Will reached out with a shaking hand, his palm turning up to cup the bottom of Tom’s chin. He slowly turned the other mans face, taking in every crevice. From the curl of hair falling across his forehead to the shadow that slowly snaked its way across unshaven stubble. It was all there, right in front of him. 

Will was about to brush his thumb across Tom’s jaw, just to make sure when a crash sounded from behind the curtains. The silence was broken by a hiss as Will flinched, tightening his grip on the younger man’s face in the process. He wasn’t letting go this time. He had to hold on. 

“Will… c’mon open yer eyes for me,” Tom’s voice sounded across the darkness and it was only then that Will realised he had clenched them shut at the sudden noise. 

With a slow breath he blinked. Once, then twice. He was met with the unbreaking gaze of not Lance Corporal Blake, but Tom. 

“There you go,” A childish grin broke out across Tom’s face, though the worry was still evident in his eyes. “Can’t see me without them open can you?” 

Will huffed out the closest thing he could to a laugh, his mouth parted slightly with every intake of air. He slowly began to relax his grip, but he didn’t let go just yet. 

“You want to talk about it?” 

It was a simple question, but the answer had never felt so far yet so close. 

Tom didn’t speak again, just tilting his chin to press more weight into Will’s hand. 

“I- we,” Will took in a shaky breath, his eyes falling shut for a moment. When he opened them again he settled his focus onto the man before him. Safe. He felt the warmth of their close company, filling his lungs with something more than fear. 

“We were back at the barn…” He started slowly, sure this time. Will refused to let his voice waver, he couldn’t let his fear push away what he had right in front of him. “You were hurt, and I was y’know…” He nodded, eyes flickering across Tom’s sleepy face. 

Tom just returned the motion, encouragement flooding his face and giving Will the confidence he needed to continue.

“I was trying to stop it, to save you,” Will murmured. “It wasn’t working though; I couldn’t feel my hand and-”  
He cut off, his eyebrows pulling together. “My hand.” Will began to shift, his shoulder bouncing against the pillows as he pulled his other arm up from beneath the sheets. 

“Will-” Tom started, but it landed on deaf ears as the older man pulled out his arm to see hand… or lack of.

The silence that followed echoed across the room, the thunder from outside bouncing alongside it as it hit the walls. 

“It was there…” Will mumbled, eyes focussed on where the limb had once sat. “I swear… Tom, I swear.”

Finally looking up, Will’s eyes met Tom’s own tearful ones. 

Tom let out a quiet breath, reaching up to rest his hand on top of the one that remain on his cheek. 

“I know,” he whispered, soft fingers lacing between rough ones.

With one more look at Will’s exhausted and confusion riddled expression he slowly moved forward. He took his free arm and let it slide around the older man. He pulled him closer, making sure not to startle Will and eventually they lay chest to chest, the offending limb pressed between them. 

Tom held Will, the hand that sat on his cheek now reaching up to flood through the man’s hair. He began to gentle run his hand down towards the base of Will’s neck, only stopping once he was able to cradle other’s head in the palm of his hand as together they began to mourn a loss from years before.

If they lay like that for the rest of the night then neither man mentioned it the following morning.

Just like every time before.

Tom would always be there for Will when he woke.

And Will always returned the favour.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed :)


End file.
